Comfort
by David001
Summary: My first ever Fanfic. This story was based around speculation about Mattie's accident from late in Season 10. Harm's POV.


Title: Comfort

Completed: January 22, 2005

Author: David

Rating: K

Spoilers: Speculation fic basedon Mattie's accident late in Season 10.

I'm standing next to my Vette. I don't remember getting out of it. Hell, I don't remember getting into it, either. I am _so_ out of it. Driving wasn't the best idea I've ever had.

Where am I?

I look up. The building in front of me is familiar. I know this place; how could I not?

I move around the hood of my car and step onto the sidewalk. I'm surprised my legs work; my body isn't really responding very well to instructions right now. I approach the entrance of the squat, two-story building and put my hand on the door-knob. A shudder runs through me and I stop, the door half open.

Taking a cleansing breath that doesn't do as much as I hoped it would I enter the vestibule and close the door behind me. I stand in silence for a moment, trying to will my legs to take another step. Why won't they work? I'm not injured; at least not physically. On the inside maybe, but that isn't a reason not to be able to walk.

Come on Harm, you can do this.

My legs start working again and I make my way towards the stairs. Stairs. Oh, God, why do there have to be stairs. Level ground is bad enough right now. I place my right hand on the banister and will my left leg onto the first tread. There, that wasn't so hard.

Slowly I stumble up the narrow flight, willing each leg to move on its own. At the landing to the second floor I stop. How long did that take? I look at my watch: 23:45. Well, at least I know what time it is, but I have no idea when I got here so that doesn't really tell me much.

The hall is covered in dull, tan coloured, tight-pile carpeting. I'd never really noticed before. Strange considering how many times I've been here. Maybe if I could lift my head above my shoulders for more than a few seconds at a time I wouldn't have noticed this time, either.

I shuffle down the hall, I know where I'm going. I only know one person that lives in this building. Strange, I don't think I've ever seen any of the other tenants. I'm sure there are other people that live here; numbered doors line both sides of the hall, but I have never actually seen them.

It doesn't matter, only the door at the end of the hall on the right matters. Apartment 201. That's where I'm going. Now all I need to do is get there.

As I approach the door I find myself thinking about how I must look. A six foot four inch man dressed in Navy whites stumbling down the hall like a drunk. Good thing no one is around. Anyone else would have called the cops by now.

I sure don't feel like a drunk, not that I can really remember the few times I have been. My insides are twisted into knots, and I can barely breathe, but I haven't even had a drink today; though I sure did consider it a few times. Is this what love is like? Is this the kind of pain that love can bring?

The door I'm after is in front of me now. All I need to do is knock. Come on arm, you need to do your part in this. How the hell did I manage to drive here without killing myself or someone else? I should've taken a cab, but then I don't even remember leaving the hospital, so that argument is moot, now.

My arm moves spasmodically and I manage to rap my knuckles on the door a few times. It sounds pathetic, even to me. I hope it was loud enough. If I though I could stand up again I would sit on the floor right here in the middle of the hallway, but I doubt I could, so I lock my knees and pray I don't have to wait long.

A voice carries through the door, asking me to hold on. Good, she's home. I don't know what I would have done, where I would have gone, if she hadn't been. I hear her on the other side of the door, probably looking through the peep-hole, and then I hear the deadbolt being thrown, and the door in front of me whips open.

"Harm?" she says. She's wearing a pale pink satin robe, knotted loosely at the front with a matching sash. If I could breath properly I'm sure I would gasp at the sight. She's so damn beautiful.

"Hey, Mac," I reply. Was that my voice? I don't remember it ever sounding like that before; well, maybe after the time when I went down in the Atlantic, but I only remember bits and pieces of the first few days after the crash, anyway.

I feel her hand on my shoulder as she guides me into her apartment, kicking the door shut behind her.

"Harm," she says again, "what's wrong?" her eyes grow big. "Oh, God, Mattie?"

I shake my head, trying to look her in the eyes, but afraid to for fear of getting lost there. "She woke up, Mac. She talked to me."

I feel my body shaking. My eyes are burning, my chest constricted. "She's alive, Mac. I didn't lose her."

When the first sob hits I feel her there. Her arms wrap around my shoulders, one hand on my back the other on the back of my head as she pulls my face down to the cleft in her shoulder. She whispers words of comfort in my ear, while her hands try to stroke away the pain.

I don't cry. I haven't for a long time; not since Bud's accident, but being here, in her arms, I just let go. The breath I've been holding for hours leaves me in a rush. My knees weaken, but she holds me up, supporting me with her strength. My burning eyes gush with tears that I've been suppressing ever since I heard the news that Mattie was hurt. The wail that escapes my lips surprises me; I didn't know I had a sound like that in me.

I am ashamed of my weakness; I couldn't stand anyone seeing me like this–except her. She already has, once, and she won't hold it against me. She just gives me the strength that I can't give myself right now.

I feel her lips brush my temple, her soft words melting away my grief.

'It's OK, Harm," she breathes, "I'm here for you. Let it out, don't hold it inside."

My limp arms respond instinctively, snaking around her waist to pull her to me. She doesn't resist, but melts into my grasp, sensing my need. Her support buoys me, pulling me back from the brink. Thank God for her strength. She rocks me gently in her arms, giving me the time that I need.

I don't know how long we've been standing here. It could be minutes or even hours. My sobs have diminished, finally, my breathing slowed. Mac's still holding me, and if I had my way, she always would, but I need to see her. I need to look at her face.

Sensing me pull back she releases me from the warm glow of her embrace. I don't pull back fully; not willing to let go of her. My hands lie easily on her hips, her arms are draped loosely over my shoulders. She has a confused look on her face--part pain, part fear. I need to get rid of the fear and the pain.

"Thanks, Mac," I say, trying to give her the best smile I can muster. "For everything. I'm sorry I couldn't talk to you earlier. I'm sorry I pushed you away. Thanks for being here for me now."

She smiles back at me ruefully. "Anytime, anywhere," she says.

I relax as the pain and fear vanish from her eyes, replaced instead with the deep compassion I always knew resided inside her. My hands tighten on her hips, drawing her to me. She folds herself into my embrace, her arms tight around my neck.

"I thought she was dead, Mac," I breathe into her hair. "After I got to the hospital and I saw her lying there in that bed, hooked to all those machines, I was sure she was never going to wake up. I was sure I'd lost her. When she woke up and smiled at me I couldn't breathe. I was so relieved I didn't even know what to say. All I could do was run to get the doctors."

My voice hitches at the end and a I feel her grip around me tighten further. She is squeezing me so tightly it hurts, but all I want is more. I want all she can give. She seems to sense this and pulls my head back down to her shoulder again.

"She's alive, Harm," she whispers, her lips brushing lightly against my neck. "Take all the good news that you can get, and be there for her when she needs you. Give her your strength, your love; let her feed off that until she's well."

I run one hand up her back, over the satin of her robe, and tilt her head to my shoulder. She goes easily, her ear resting against my shoulder; I can feel her breath on my neck.

"I will give her all that I have, Mac. All that I can give." I tense. "What if it isn't enough? What if my strength falters? Where will I go if I stumble?"

She doesn't even hesitate. "Come to me," she breathes. "I will give you my strength, my support..." she pauses, "and my love. I will be here to help you through this, Harm. Always."

The tension in my body eases and I just hold her, taking her first offered gift of strength. Mattie will survive this. I will survive this, but only because of the woman I hold in my arms. She will get me through.

"What would I do without you, Mac?"

I feel her smile against my neck. "You won't ever have to find out."


End file.
